The Doctor's Thoughts
by Lancaeriel Greenleaf
Summary: Basically what the title says. Set during Let's Kill Hitler. Review please!


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who... *sigh*

"Voice interface enabled."

The Doctor looked up when he heard a familiar voice. Before him was the hologram of a man with floppy dark hair and ancient hazel eyes. A black bowtie was crisply placed around his neck over a clean white shirt, the entire ensemble covered by a trench coat.

The Doctor sighed, his body racked with pain again as the poison attacked his system.

What he said was, "Oh, no, no, no! Give me someone I like!"

What he meant was, "I can't stand to look at myself."

The image shimmered and changed. A rush of emotion hit the Time Lord as _her_ echo appeared. His hearts pounded wildly against his chest as he took in her blonde hair, her hazel eyes… He looked to the TARDIS console, knowing she was just trying to help, but it _hurt_. Thinking of his lost Rose was not the final thing he wanted to do before he died.

What he said was, "Thanks! Give me guilt!"

What he meant was, "I loved her. I lost her for all eternity and it's entirely my fault. I miss her…"

The hologram transformed again and Martha Jones appeared. A twinge of guilt stabbed into his hearts as he thought about the reason she left. He knew he had been blind, but he had been so upset about Rose… Well, Martha had Mickey now, and they were happy. Her family had recovered and all was well with her. Still, he felt responsible for what had happened, and he knew who was coming next

What he said was, "Also guilt!"

What he meant was, "She deserved better."

He knew who it would be without having to look up. Donna Noble, the super-temp from Cheswick, was standing there, one hand on her hip. His heart(s?)ache intensified tenfold when he saw her. She was the greatest. As he had said before, there were people and planets that would never forget her, while she could never remember.

What he said was, "More guilt!"

What he meant was, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Come on! There must be someone left in the universe I haven't screwed up yet!" he continued. He needed someone, anyone, to keep him going.

"Voice interface enabled."

The Doctor looked up and saw hope, "Oh, Amelia Pond. Before I got it all wrong. My sweet little Amelia."

The little red-headed figure before him stared at him with empty eyes, "I am not Amelia Pond. I am a voice interface."

He smiled anyways, "Let's run away and have adventures. Come along, Pond!"

"I am not Amelia Pond. I am a voice interface."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, "You are so Scottish! How am I doing?"

"Your system has been contaminated by the poison of the Judas Tree. You will be dead in thirty-two minutes."

His face fell; he liked this regeneration, "Okay, so, basically better regenerate; that's what you're saying."

She kept her blank stare, "Regeneration disabled. You will be dead in thirty-two minutes."

Despite this, the Doctor kept his optimism, "Unless I'm cured, yeah?"

"There is no cure. You will be dead in thirty-two minutes."

His hope crumbling, he spat out, "Why do you keep saying that?"

Her voice was cold and calculating, "Because you will be dead in thirty-two minutes."

"You see, there you go again! Basically skipping thirty-one whole minutes when I'm absolutely fine! Scottish, that's all I'm saying!" _Keep looking at the bright side, Doctor._

"You will be fine for thirty-one minutes. You will be dead in thirty-two minutes."

"Scotland's never conquered anyone, you know. Not even a Shetland!" He decided insulting a hologram was probably not the best way to go, so changed tactics halfway, "River needs me. She's only just beginning. I can't die now."

The unemotional voice replied, "You will not die now. You will die in thirty-two minutes."

"I'm going out in the first round! Ringing any bells?" He stopped talking, and clutched his side as the pain washed over him. "Okay. Need something for the pain now. Come on, Amelia, it's me."

"I am not Amelia Pond. I am a voice interface."

Still fighting off the unyielding pain, he countered, "Amelia, listen to me. I can be brave for you, but you have got to tell me how."

The answer was the same, "I am not Amelia Pond. I am a voice interface."

The poison, coupled with the feeling of hopelessness, was taking its toll. Of course, this would be the end of the mighty Doctor. Killed by the child of his best friends and dying alone…

"Amelia… Amelia… I…"

The image of the young Scottish girl just stood there, and the console room grew silent.

"Fish fingers and custard."

The Doctor cracked open an eye. "What did you say?" He stared at the hologram; the figure remained stubbornly silent, but it had said enough. "Fish fingers and custard!" he exclaimed, regaining the strength the despondency had stolen from him, "Amelia Pond, fish fingers and custard." He used the console of the TARDIS to pull himself up. "Fish fingers and custard!" He pulled a lever and the TARDIS was off.

**A/N:** Well, here's another little oneshot! Thank you for reading! Review, please!


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